


Bucky Bear

by 911xtarlos



Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: Bucky Barnes Has PTSD, Bucky Barnes Needs a Hug, Domestic Fluff, I wanted an excuse to write Bucky with a dog, M/M, Tooth-Rotting Fluff
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-07-11
Updated: 2019-07-11
Packaged: 2020-06-26 05:25:40
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,051
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19761505
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/911xtarlos/pseuds/911xtarlos
Summary: Bucky gets a PTSD dogORI've been having so many ideas for fluffy fics idk who I am anymore. What happened to my angsty ideas?





	Bucky Bear

“So,” Steve says at his weekly lunch with Sam. “I’ve been thinking about getting Bucky a dog.”

“A dog?”

“Yeah. I’ve done some research about dogs for PTSD and I think it might do him good. Especially when I have to leave him home alone. A dog might make him more comfortable being without me.”

“It might be a good idea. I can check through the VA and get you some organizations who might to get him one.”

“That’s great Sam. I still need to talk to Bucky and see what he thinks about it. I don’t want to do something that would hurt more than it would help.”

“Yeah for sure. I do think it’s a good idea though. I’ve had a few guys come through the VA who had dogs for their PTSD and it helped them a lot.”

“Thank you Sam.”

“No problem man.”

><

Twice a week Bucky went to therapy in the Avengers complex. In the beginning, Steve had gone with him and sat outside during his session, but now that he had been going for almost two months, Bucky was comfortable going downstairs by himself. 

Some days were better than others. Some days Bucky would go straight to the bedroom without giving Steve a backward glance. But those days were few and far between now. Most of the time, Bucky would come in and sit on the couch with him. Steve would work and Bucky would watch TV until he was ready to talk.

Today was a bad day. Bucky came in shaky, looking like he was on the verge of a panic attack.

“Bucky?” Steve stood up from the couch and walked toward him.

Bucky jumped away from him, breath coming in rapid pants.

“Hey I’m not gonna touch you okay. I need you to try and breathe with me okay? Can you do that?”

Bucky nodded jerkily.

“Okay. In and out. Slowly. Just like that. Good job buddy.”

Slowly Bucky’s breathing returned to normal. At some point tears had started to fall and he wiped them away with his sleeve. Bucky sank to his knees on the floor and Steve slowly knelt in front of him. No matter how much he itched to touch him, to reach out and pull him in for a hug, he restrained himself knowing it could launch Bucky into another panic. 

“You okay pal?”

“Yeah,” Bucky’s voice was weak and strained.

“You wanna go sit on the couch? It’s much more comfortable than the couch.”

Bucky huffed out a weak laugh and nodded, standing up and making his way to the couch.

Steve sat on the opposite side, not too far away, but far enough that they weren’t touching. Bucky reached his arms out for him, making grabby hands like a kid, and Steve pulled him into a tight hug.

“You wanna talk about it?” He asked, brushing back some of the hair that had fallen from his bun.

“Not right now.”

“Okay. You know Sam and I came up with an idea at lunch the other day but I wanted to ask you how you felt about it.”

“What is it?”

“Well I was thinking about getting you a dog. A special one that is trained to help people with PTSD.”

“That’s a thing?”   
  


“Yeah. Sam gave me some information from the VA and some organizations that help people get these dogs. Do you want to read it?”

“Yeah.”

Steve retrieved his tablet from the table by the couch and handed it to Bucky. He sat quietly while Bucky read, only speaking up when Bucky had something to say.

“So we send in my information to these people and they set me up with a dog?”

“Yeah. And we don’t have to tell them much personal information. They just have to make sure that you’re a candidate for a dog.”

“I want a dog.”

“You're sure?”

“Yeah. My therapist has been telling me to think about emotional support animals. I just didn’t know how to ask you.”

“Hey you know you can ask me anything.”

“Yeah I know.”

“Well I’ll send Sam a message and he’ll send the stuff in.”

“Okay. Do I get to name the dog?”

“I’m sure you do.”

“Will you help me think of a name?”

“Of course I will.”

><

It took almost two months to get Bucky set up with a dog. There were stacks of paperwork to fill out, along with home visits, which almost sent Bucky into a panic, and many more hoops that they had to jump through. 

But at the end of those two months, Bucky was matched with a two year old Golden Retriever, which upon meeting for the first time, bounded up to Bucky and proceeded to lick all over his face. When he had finally wrestled the dog down off of him and to the floor, Bucky had laid beside him and buried his face in the fluffy fur and named the dog Bear. 

Bucky and Bear were inseparable. Bear slept in the bed with him, curled up by his feet, watching the door and protecting Bucky. He went in public with him and sat curled under his feet or wrapped himself around his legs. He nuzzled Bucky’s knees when he sensed him having a panic attack or if they were at home he would plop himself in his lap and cuddle him.

Steve noticed a change in Bucky. He smiled more and laughed at Bear’s antics. He loved to go outside and play with the dog, who had loads of energy. He also loved to just lay on the floor with his face buried in all the fluff. It was easily the sweetest thing that Steve had ever seen in his life.

><   
  


“So how’s it going with Bucky and the dog? What did he name it again?” Sam asked a few weeks later at lunch.

“Bear. And they’re inseparable. They do everything together. He acts more like himself now. He smiles and laughs and plays with Bear. I could almost swear he loves that dog more than me though.”

“Oh please, that boy could never love anything more than you.”

And Steve almost believed it, until that night when Bear decided to steal his side of the bed and he ended up on the couch. 

**Author's Note:**

> I did some research about PTSD dogs but I have no experience so if anyone does and I've missed something or gotten something wrong please let me know. Just do it nicely!


End file.
